


either way you're by my side until my dying days

by regionalsky



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Fluff, M/M, actually not, but it's the closest thing to fluff I can write, lowkey song fic, originally inspired by taxi cab, really short, was supposed to be adorable but ended different
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-16 06:39:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10565739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/regionalsky/pseuds/regionalsky
Summary: this was supposed to be fluff. adorable for about 500 words, and then I couldn't help but let the ominous ideas come in. sorry, it is joshler.





	1. Beautifully Plain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [henry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/henry/gifts).



> hey kiddos  
> this is my short joshler fluff tell me what you think  
> literally any idea in your head is gold to me, even (especially) if it's negative.  
> thanks!! :)

It was the back of a taxi when I first realized I was in love with you. Or, as much as I could be in love. We were fifteen.  
A clean, leather seated car that smelled of a “rainforest mist” air freshener and the icebreaker mints our driver had offered us.  
You had one in your mouth, I tasted it on you. I could feel your mouth opening in a grin when I first pressed my lips to yours. I remember you grabbing my hand, and not letting go until we got to the house hours later.  
That cab. It wasn’t yellow, it was grey with black and white checkered marks on the side and big letters. Rain made it shine and flash, but on the inside, dulled our surroundings like a curtain. A place we could keep to ourselves until we got to the old courthouse. Once the driver opened the door, lights clicked on and I was swept back into reality with the rain hitting my face and dreams flying away.  
You payed this time. I watched with wonder as you pulled the green bills, slightly damp, out of your pocket and handed them to the cabbie. He smiled and I wondered what had happened in the backseat of the car, if he had ever seen it before.  
What had happened? What had come over me? Why did I feel like I couldn't let go of your fingers?  
I think because earlier that day, it had been school. 

The endless halls and classes that stretched beyond the limits I was supposed to be learning about, it was only tolerable with you. That day blurred like every other day. Blurry because the tiredness I couldn’t rub out of my eyes and the tears I refused to let fall.  
At nights I kept seeing people out of the corner of my eye. They whispered and told me what was wrong, what I had done to them and what I owed them. Poked and prodded and laughed in my ear while I tossed and turned, needing something or someone to hold on to. Remind me I didn’t need to do what they said, they didn’t mean anything. The people I had left behind or not forgiven or not given that one-more-chance or let them use me or give them what they wanted when hormones ran wild or not be whatever they wanted-

I gripped your hand as tightly as I could while we ran across the street, jumping the small stream by the curb and watching the glaring headlights speeding towards us.  
You turned towards me and smiled, hinting at what had happened in the back earlier.  
Something came out of your mouth but I didn’t hear it. I responded but I couldn’t comprehend what I was saying. You pulled me into a hug that smelled like wet hair and mint and your sweatshirt and rain, murmuring something. I sighed and let the reassuring vibrations of your voice echo through me, fine-tuning me to your tempo.  
“Am I alive or well or am I dreaming dead?”  
Lyrics floated through my mind. Words strung together that you introduced me to.  
“Good luck,” Made it’s way through the thick netting of my thoughts and I grinned.  
Touched my lips to yours, just because it felt right.  
What didn’t feel right was walking away from you, my newfound best friend, into the building I dreaded.


	2. Every Hole Inside Your Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more. semi fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is actually wayyyyyyyy darker than I wanted it to be, oops. I attempted fluff, but it turned in to this. Why so dark? Who knows. It's Joshler, and I've never read a fully happy top fanfic.   
> (this is how 15 year old me experienced heartbreak.)   
> stage 1.

Of course, we still thought we were in love.

Up until that day- we were 16. 

The next day, it was almost summer. Because, I wasn’t enough- I was divided, you were divided, and half a soul isn’t enough for someone. 

The rain was sprinkling lightly on the windows of King Soopers as I tried not to cry. Ice cream sandwiches, $4.11 with tax, made my fingers sticky but my chest ache less. I breathed in and out- I would not lose that, I would not lose my breathing, it was one thing you would not strip me of- and tried to sink into the music. Sounds that help me forget the past hour, the past day. Transport me to another world where all is good and you are there, and we are happy, forever, until we die-

But no. You’re far away, and I’m afraid of what’s next. 

My fingers twitched towards my phone- face down, hiding the urge to text you. I needed to talk to you, to tell you what you meant to me, to pour out all these words that had suddenly sprung up inside of me. You were home, but so, so far away. 

But I couldn’t. There was no going back. The angry words we screamed were never going to leave my memory, the ping pong table and the redbull and the smiles and laughs and how everything went wrong.

I started breathing faster, my throat hurting, tears threatening- but I could not cry. I had to get to 5:15. Then I could go home. 

Shaky in, Shaky out. Shaky shaky shaky like my thoughts, definitely spiraling downhill after this day, this last day of school. Breathless, because I was made of you- including my lungs. Breathing didn’t  _ work  _ without your hands. 

This was the part it always got blurry. 

Sometimes, I would sit there and eat my sandwiches until I got myself together enough to take the bus home, and then cry there and write more poems. 

Other times, another person would come and we would go sit with their friends until I could go home and cry. 

One of them I sobbed until I pass out and just don’t wake up- like Padme, I lose the will to live. 

But the thing that I see the most is you coming to me. Your hand on my shoulder, then your arm. You apologize and I apologize and you understand everything and then I tell you the thing I’ve wanted to tell you since November, since that cab, since I left you in the rain. We go get pizza, because pizza is what you always wanted. Your home would be warm, but not as warm as your smile. The light would shine through.   

No matter what, I always was close to tears. 

You wanna know what happened? Real life? I took a taxi home. That’s how it ended. There was a notebook in my lap, damp. 

He didn’t talk to me. I wish the he did, but the cabbie was silent. I was left to wish anything but going home would happen-

The gas would run out-

The car would crash-

He would get lost-

But no, no new route. Not to your house, there was no new map. 

Almost there. 

You were back. Thrown back to where I started, eating ice cream sandwiches, but no longer by myself. “Don’t be afraid,” You would whisper. “Don’t be afraid.” I shook my head, the notebook wanted those words. No, no. You did not exist. You weren’t there. I had sat by myself in those chairs, I had walked outside with no one besides me. I was sleeping, it was a dream. The cab was real, the damp felt seats smelling like dirt and the lingering smoke numbing my nostrils.  

But your eyes, and your hair wasn’t brown that time, it was green, of all colors. It was real, because you told me I was forgiven. All I did would be undone. I could breathe, because that taxi cab never came after the first time I figured out love. Right?

Maybe it was real- but in my head, or in the notebook- because the most real thing was the deceleration of the car, the seatbelt digging into my neck. “Here,” he grunted, and this time, I pulled the bills out of my pocket. 

By the time he drove away, long gone, my breath was lost.

There would be no other day. 


End file.
